


Soldier Boys

by thecat_13145



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Military, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Ian Edgerton is the first person Don meets after being shipped off to military school</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soldier Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerealkiller0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerealkiller0/gifts).



> Thanks to my lovely beta, [](http://mercilynn.livejournal.com/profile)[**mercilynn**](http://mercilynn.livejournal.com/) mainly for not murdering me when I sent her a second fic less than a month before the closing date and for not getting mad at me for nagging her. Originally posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/numb3rs_newyear/profile)[**numb3rs_newyear**](http://community.livejournal.com/numb3rs_newyear/) for [](http://cerealkiller0.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cerealkiller0.livejournal.com/)**cerealkiller0**. **Hope she still thinks I'm the coolest author.** Thanks and Enjoy!

This place sucked and it was completely and utterly unfair he'd been sent here.

Derek Steinman had made Charlie's life miserable for months and the one time Don decided to do something about it, give Derek a taste of his own medicine, the school, and his parents, decided he had discipline problems and sent him off here.

Well screw them. They were the ones always telling him that he needed to look out for Charlie, then punishing him when he did.

He aimed a kick at the statue of the school's founder, some dead military guy whose name he had been told when he was being dragged around here, and fished in his pocket for the cigarettes and lighter (flinched from his father's stash in the garage, did he really think Don was as stupid as Charlie and couldn't smell them every time he went in there?) and prepared to light up.

"You shouldn't do that."

He spun around, ready to tell the do-gooder, buzz cut military freak to fuck off when he saw a kid about Don's own age. His skin was swarthy, his hair dark and almost completely shaven, suggesting he'd been here for at least a year; but that wasn't what made Don stare. It was the brown eyes that stared out at him. They were the most unusual eyes he'd ever seen. Not their color. They were a common brown - just like Charlie's, his own, his dad's - but it was the way they looked at you.

It was like they already knew everything about you, and weren't judging you on it, weren't assigning you to a box. They seemed to say, "I know what everyone says about you and I don't give a crap."

While this was still going through his head, the boy continued, "The security cameras sweep here every twenty-two minutes and old man Granger is a Nazi about that shit."

The sentence made him grin. "You've timed them, then?"

The other kid shrugged. "I've been here a while." He started to walk away, then looked back and added, "You coming or what?"

Without thinking, Don followed him to an area just around the corner from the teacher's dorm (barracks, they called them barracks here) that seemed more exposed than the back of the statue. They were right underneath someone's window for goodness sake.

The kid apparently had read his thoughts as he said, "Cameras can't see around here, and Stonewall is drunk as a skunk and blind as a bat."

They exchanged a look, then a grin, and suddenly Don found himself laughing with the other kid, honestly laughing for the first time since this whole mess started. The kid grinned at him as he dug cigarettes and a lighter out of a battered wooden crate that was pushed up against the window. Don spotted some candy bars and a couple of porn magazines hidden there.

"Ian Edgerton," the kid said, lighting up and holding out his hand.

Don paused for a moment before doing the same.

"Don. Don Eppes."  



	2. Probie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You the probie?"

“You the probie?”

Don blinked, his mind running over the terms he was fairly certain that the kid with a stick up his ass had explained on the tour. Probie meant the new kid.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing around the dorm. Two bunk beds stood against the walls, and four grey lockers stood on either side of the beds.

The kid who asked the question nodded. “I’m David Sinclair.”

He indicated the kid sitting on the bunk above him. “This is Colby Granger.”

“Hey.”

Colby was a nice enough looking blond, with a Midwestern accent and a gait that suggested he’d been here since elementary school. David was black and muscular, looking like every TV marine Don had ever seen.

“Don Eppes.”

David nodded. “Californian right?”

At Don’s nod, he added, “I’m from New York. And Colby, here’s, from Idaho.”

“I guessed.”

“What gave me away?” Colby asked, peered down at them. 

 

Don just grinned. He looked at the other two beds, trying to figure out which one was his, but they were both made with blankets so tight that you could bounce a quarter on it.

“You’re on the bottom.” Colby volunteered, helpfully, following Don’s gaze.

“Thanks.” He put his carry-all on the bottom bunk, looking around.

“Thought the bottom bunk was the better one,” he muttered, opening his bag.

“Yeah, well,” David muttered pulling a book out of his locker. “When you meet the guy you may not count yourself as so lucky.”

“Oh yeah?” Don questioned, pulling open the one empty locker and beginning to pull out clothes. He stood, trying to remember where the kid had said shirts went. 

“It’s just…well…”

“Ian’s a psycho!” Colby interrupted.

“He’s not a psycho, man. Marshal just told you that to get you going.” David shook his head and looked up at Don. “Ian’s just a little…”

“Little what, Sinclair?”

All three spun towards the door. Don didn’t hear David’s explanation, as he stared. It was the same young man from earlier, the one who’d he’d shared a cigarette; the one person who he thought might be a friend. Apparently, they were bunk mates.

This could be good. Except Ian was acting like they’d never met.

David made introduction, and Ian merely made what could only be described as a grunt, before pulling himself up onto the bunk.

Don continued unpacking.

****

“So why are you here?” Don asked, sitting on the box underneath Stonewall’s window. Ian raised an eyebrow.

In public, during classes and in their dorm, Ian barely spoke to him. But almost every afternoon, they met beneath the window and talked. Don had discovered that the zen attitude he had noticed on the first day was simply a part of who Ian was. That he liked Hershey, but not Mars, that he knew the timing of every security camera and of the guards’ rounds. He also knew when most of the teachers were scheduling or planning tests. He could out-do anyone in lessons, but rarely seemed to put the effort in.

The guy seemed to have a method of getting hold of everything that was black market, and yet none of the others seemed to take the risk of getting too close.

The view that Ian was a psychopath wasn’t unique to Colby. Don also heard it from Nathan and Tim; even Robin (who had a thing for bad boys) seemed to steer clear of Ian. When Don asked them where they’d heard that, most of them sited old kids who left. It also seemed that Ian had been here since anyone could remember.

The guy certainly never volunteered information about his past, and there never seemed to be anything for him at the mail call. It was weird.

Don finally decided to take his mother’s advice and went straight to the source.

“Don’t know what you mean.” Ian said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah you do.” Don shifted. “Colby’s here cause his old man is and everyone in his family has been here. David’s a scholarship kid. You know about me.” He shrugged. Ian had somehow, without any words, got the whole story of Charlie and Derek Steinman and his family out of him on their second meeting. “So what about you?”

Ian picked at the bottle wrapper, starting to peel it off. “I was born and my parents died.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Well that’s what it feels like!” Ian suddenly was up and Don knew instinctively that this conversation was over. He watched as Ian slouched off and waited until he was out of sight before emerging.

He almost ran head-first into Colby, who was standing out there.

“Hey.” The blond was uncharacteristically nervous, fiddling with the uniform belt. 

“Hey.” Don made to push past him, but Colby shot out a hand to stop him.

“Look, I saw you and Ian hanging out.”

“So? You gonna tattle on us?”

A faint flush came over Colby’s cheeks. “I’m no Arnold. Just thought you ought to know about Ian.” The blond sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Look that stuff I said on first day about Ian being a psycho; I didn’t hear it from Marshal.” He looked down at his feet. “I heard it from my dad.” He looked nervously around him. “Ian came here when he was just eight, youngest cadet they’ve ever taken. They took him, cause,” he swallowed. “Cause the place he was at before this, some catholic orphanage, he went nuts and nearly strangled a teacher.”

Colby evidently read Don’s disbelief in his face, as he said, “It’s true. Ask Coop if you don’t believe me.”   
Coop was the oldest cadet on base, a giant red head who’d been here longer than anyone could remember. If Colby was recommending he ask Coop, then he had to be pretty sure of his facts.

“Not judging,” Colby said, firmly. “Just advising you to stay away. Ian,” he shrugged. “He’s trouble.”


	3. He's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's trouble"

Chapter 3

_He’s trouble. He’s trouble._

 

The words repeated themselves in Don’s head, as he lay awake staring at the bunk above him. Colby had left pretty much after he’d said those words, and he’d barely made it back to the barracks before Lights Out.

 

Ian had already been up on his bunk, lying facing the wall, while David and Colby were having a whispered argument, which they both dropped the second he entered. Colby had avoid his eyes, pulling himself up on to his bunk, and David just looked at all of them, shaking his head.

 

Swearing internally, Don shifted himself. It was no use, he wasn’t going to sleep. He couldn’t get the story Colby had told him out of his head. Trouble was, he believed the blond. Colby had no reason to lie, and Ian’s own words on the subject had confirmed he was an orphan.

 

But he couldn’t see Ian strangling a guy for no reason, so there had to have been a reason.

 

But Colby would have mentioned it if there had been.

 

"There’s two sides to every story!" His mother’s voice echoed through his skull, as they had echoed up the stairs. She’d been yelling at his father, as they argued after his fight with Derek.

 

"You should listen to Don’s." But his father hadn’t and Don hadn’t told his. The few conversations they had before he came here had degenerated into yelling matches, upsetting both his mother and Charlie.

 

Thinking of his father, Don gave a small jolt. He’d been here nearly a month; so the first leave, when Cadet’s families are encouraged to visit was coming up that weekend. Mom had mentioned it in her last letter, telling Don that they would ALL be coming up to see him.

 

Don groaned softly, turning over. Another thing to worry about.

*******

“...Carrie and Mary-Beth.” Colby finished, placing his boots down next to his bunk.

 

“And I thought my sister was bad.” David said, shaking his head. “What about you Don? You got any sibs?”

“Brother.” Don muttered, pretending his attention was focused on his own footwear. “Five years younger.”

“Lucky you.” Colby observed.

“You’re the youngest right?” 

Colby rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Of the boys yeah. Billy and Ed came through here. Both overseas now,” he added, his face darkening slightly.

Don could feel rather than see Ian listening in, though the other boy was pretending to reading a book of poetry. If it had been anyone other than Ian, the book would have been grabbed and it’s owner made the subject of ridicule, but Ian’s quiet menace was enough to ensure he’d be left alone.

 

Don hadn’t really had a chance to speak to him since that conversation with Colby. He had tried in the locker room the next morning, but had been told:

“Best listen to Granger, Don. He’s right. I am trouble.”

He’d had no luck with any of his other approaches either and thus, this school was sucking as majorly as the last one, or it would once they’d met Charlie. Currently, he was just another probie. Soon he’d be the probie with the freak brother.

*****

“DONNIE!!!” Margaret Eppes grabbed her son into a bone breaking hug. He struggled for a moment, before he noticed that everyone else was enduring the same treatment.

He caught Colby’s eyes and the other boy sent him a sympathetic grimace. He then looked over at David, who had three almost identical women (presumable his mother, aunt and grandmother) hugging and pinching at him.

 

“You’re so thin.” Margaret moaned.

“It’s just muscle mom. Happens to everyone.” He glanced at Charlie, who was looking at Don like he was an alien. “Hey Chuck.”

 

Charlie nodded back in response.

“Still feeling car sick?” Margaret asked gently, before turning her attention back to Don. “Dad’ll be here in a minute, he’s just finding somewhere to park.”

Don rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you made it.”

Margaret smiled, showing her teeth and a lack of comfort. Don made a guess that Dad was sleeping on the couch when Mom was home.

“So Sweetie?” Margaret’s smile looked faker than ever. “Why don’t you give us the tour?”

 

****  
“How'd your mom handle it?” David asked as they sat on their bunks that night. “She get all emotional?”

 

“Ya kidding? Done this three times and another two to get through.” Colby shook his head. “But yeah, she cried.”

 

“Your mom seemed to be handling O.K. Don.” 

“Yeah.” Don muttered, trying not to show that he’d actually been hurt by it.

 

Colby’s mom had to be supported by her two daughters as she left. Grandmother Sinclair was weeping like a willow, and David's mother and aunt had been little better.

Margaret Eppes had simply kissed her son and muttered “Be good, Sweetie.”

Don tried not to show how much this had bothered him.

“Come on. Lights out in ten.”

He lay staring at the ceiling, before he heard a voice above him whispering.

“Yeah, she held it together. Until she made it past the gates. Then she cried her eyes out.”

“You talking to me again?” Don asked of the ceiling.

He heard the mattress above him creak as Ian shrugged. “Granger’s right. You shouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Why? Cause of some stupid thing that happened when you were a kid? Isn’t that the point of this place? Your past doesn’t matter, it’s your future that counts?” He had more to say, but suddenly Ian’s face appeared, hanging upside down over the bunk.

Before Don had a chance to think, Ian’s hands grabbed his, pulling his head close for a kiss. Don struggled, more from shock than anything else, and Ian released him. 

“Now you know,” he said softly. “I’m trouble, Don. Stay away.”


	4. We need to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We need to talk about what happened."

Don found his mind returning a lot to that kiss over the coming days.

Ian was keeping his distance, up before Don was awake, sneaking into the dorm after lights out, and completely ignoring him in the time in between, not that much had changed there.

Truth was, he liked Ian. A lot.

Ian was a guy though and that was something he had just never considered. His father had always made it clear that Don was supposed to marry and have children. Therefore he’d never really thought about anything else, he just chased girls as he was supposed to.

Well, he’d already completely disappointed his father.

At the same time, he couldn’t do this if it was some form of rebellion against his father and his expectations. It wasn’t fair to Ian. The guy had put himself out there, expecting rejection, maybe even violence.

The school’s policy was clear that it would not permit bullying or discrimination on grounds of sexual preference, but he knew from comments over heard and talking with some of the older cadets that “fags” were encouraged to transfer and that was just by the teachers. Providing no one was killed, no real action was taken against the perpetrators.

Don sighed, running his fingers through his hair, looking out over the roof tops of the academy that had become his private place since this mess had started.

He liked Ian. He knew what he’d be taking on by getting involved with him and he was okay with it.

Well, maybe not okay with it, but he was still willing to try. He just had to figure out if it was for the right reasons.

******

Charlie's term had started three weeks ago and Don knew from his mother’s letter that she had a meeting that wouldn’t finish till late. Thus there should be no one but his Dad at home when he phoned.

“I need to see you.” He said, once the phone was answered.

“Thursday, we’ve got a break. Come sign me out.” He bit his lip, swallowing. “We need to talk.”

*******

The cafe was about three miles from the school, but no one ever used it. Rumors around the base said that the owner had been a protestor in the 60s, thrown rocks at the cadets, spat at them and similar. Don didn’t know if that was true or not, but it seemed a good neutral place for this.

Alan Eppes sat opposite of him, starring down at his cup as though he had no idea what to say. 

Don wasn’t sure he did either, but he just had to do this. He drew breath, feeling his father’s eyes lock on him, though he kept his own down.

“I think,” he said, slowly, carefully, “I may have feelings for another cadet.”

He watched his father’s eyebrows raise in interest. After all there were some female cadets at the academy.

“But I need to be sure that the feelings are mine and not about what happened. So we need to talk about what happened,” he said, swallowing.

“You guys were always telling me I needed to watch out for Charlie, ‘cause he’s my baby brother. But when I did, you freaked.”

“You beat another kid up.” Alan returned, flatly.

“He’d beaten Charlie up every day for a month!!” Don realised he was yelling and forced himself to be calm.

“You should have told us.”

“We tried,” Don snarled. “You told us to ignore him.” He looked at his fingers. “He was hitting Charlie. I pulled him off and he threw the first punch.”

“You still shouldn’t have hit back. Non violence....”

“Wouldn’t have worked,” Don groaned. “He’d have just beaten me up and then beat up Charlie again cause he didn’t have the brains to run.” 

He shook his head at his father's look. “There’s not always another way.”

“I don’t agree.” Alan responded. There was a pause, and a sigh. “But I am proud that you stood up for your brother.”

Don shrugged.

“So who’s this cadet?” His father asked, effectively changing the subject.

Don shrugged again. “His name’s Ian.” He watched nervously. No matter what he might say, he did want to know he had his family behind him.

“Tall, skinny kid, black hair, Chinese characters tattooed on his shoulder?”

At Don’s amazed expression, Alan smiled. “Charlie noticed a kid hanging around in the distance. He thought he was your boyfriend and you’d had a fight.”

“We kinda did.” Don admitted. No matter how tolerant his father was, it was best not to tell him full details. “There’s a lot of bad stuff in his past, I know how they treat people like us, he can be a total jerk, but...” He fell silent, shaking his head. 

Alan smiled. “Donnie, did I ever tell you how I met your mother?” 

At Don’s head shake, he continued. “I was working for a housing developer and she was working for the tenants’ rights organisation. The first time I asked her out, she hit me over the head with a protest sign.” He laughed. “Eventually, after I recovered from the concussion she gave me, we went out, got married and had you and Charlie.” He smiled at his son. “Love is knowing all the reasons you shouldn’t be with that person and still wanting to be with them. You understand?”

“Yeah.” Don managed a smile. Now, he just had to convince Ian of that.


	5. Let the future take care of its self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stood beneath the statue of the school’s founder, carefully lifting the cigarette and lighter he’d flinched from his father.

He stood beneath the statue of the school’s founder, carefully lifting the cigarette and lighter he’d flinched from his father. 

Slowly he moved the lighter towards the cigarette. A small stone flew through the air, knocking it to the ground. 

“Thought I told you not to do that.” Ian said, standing leaning against the wall. 

“Security cameras sweep every twenty two minutes, right?” he said, trying to ignore the sweaty feel in his gut. 

“Yeah.” Ian sighed. “If you’re going to beat me up, just get over with.” 

He shrugged. “Don’t need to wait for cameras to finish scans. No one’s going to care.” 

Ian looks defeated, just standing there, his arms hanging by his side, not even bothering to attempt to defend himself it was now or never. 

He reached forward, surprising himself at Ian closing his eyes, as though he couldn’t bear to see where the blow was coming from.   
He slipped his hand around the back of Ian’s head and pulled him close. His lips locked with Ian’s. 

Ian struggled, initially apparently confused by this. But slowly he relaxed, taking the initiative and deepening the kiss. 

They kissed for a few moments, before Ian pulled away. 

“Got about twelve seconds to get out of here?” 

Don blinked. “Camera won’t be back for another 10 minutes.” 

“Maybe.” Ian agreed. “But what I want to do to you, definitely get us thrown out if anyone sees.” 

***** 

“So what really happened?” Don asked. They were lying on a blanket that was hidden in Ian’s box, a blanket that mysteriously appeared a couple of days after their first kiss. 

It’s after lights out and if anyone catches them they’ll be in trouble, but they’re seniors now, it doesn’t seem important anymore. 

Ian shrugged. “Does it matter?” 

“No. Yeah.” He sighed. “I know you wouldn’t attack a guy for no reason. Just want to know what that reason was.” 

Ian tried to pull away, but Don’s arms are holding him steady. 

“What do you think?” 

He looks up into Ian’s eyes and knows exactly what happened, or what tried to happen. 

“I’m_” 

Ian’s eyes turn on him, blazing. “If you try and tell me you’re sorry, swear to god I’ll punch you.” 

“Well I am.” He paused, running his fingers along Ian’s muscles. “Thinking about joining the FBI. I’ll find the guy who_” 

Ian snorted. “Dead. Died a couple of years after I left.” 

“How?” 

“They said it was an accident.”

“But you don’t believe it.” 

Ian shrugged. “They always told us vengeance is mine, I will repayth sayth the lord.” He sighed. “One of the kids’s decided he was taking too long.” 

Don cards his fingers through Ian’s hair. It’s technically longer than regulations allow, but even the instructor’s don’t comment. “You thought what you going to do after graduation?” 

Ian’s eyes have something that’s not quite pity in them. “You know the answer.” 

“Doesn’t mean I like it.” 

Ian sighed. “Don, it’s what I’m meant to do. I can’t put any better than that.” 

“To kill people?” He freezes for a moment. Professor Aitkin’s has the office now, and he’s nowhere near as deaf as Stonewall was. 

“A sniper saves lives.” Ian said, regoing over an argument they’ve had since they were first taught to shoot. “The sacrifice of the few for the many.” 

Don sighed. “So where does that leave us?” 

Ian smiled, in what Don had come to think of as his smile; one of the few Ian gave that reached his eyes. “Exactly where we are now.” He shrugged. “Let the future take care of itself.”


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Future

The airport gate is crowded. Don can see families holding up banners with Welcome Home written in various levels of calligraphy. Kids run around, tripping up everyone. 

Their mothers call automatically at them to behave, all their attention focused on the gates or the big clock above it. 

He envies them. 

They can run forward, grab their man, and hold him close after months away. They can kiss here and not care who sees. 

If Don is lucky, he’ll be able to get a buddy hug, but they can’t let it last too long. 

Ian is the army’s top sniper and there’s always someone who wants to pull a god from his pedestal. 

If the new act went through...but he wasn’t hopeful. As his dad said, there was nearly year between “I have a dream” and the Civil Rights Act. 

He catches David Sinclair staring at him, and grins. David’s in the same boat, possibly worse as Colby’s too paranoia even for a hug. A handshake if David’s lucky. 

The gates open and for a moment it’s madness. 

The field agent in Don longs to take control of the situation, but he’s too busy scanning the crowd. 

Suddenly, he sees him. 

Black hair, as ever longer than any of the other soldier boys jostling him, dark eyes watching everyone and at the same time searching for the right person, Chinese Characters on both shoulders now, not that you could see that through the green T-shirt. 

He watches as their eyes meet and Ian’s eyes smile. 

He pushes through the crowd, pulling Don into a hug. 

Don grins, unable to stop himself again. 

“Welcome Home.” 

Ian’s eyes are dancing. “It sure is.”


End file.
